


One Shot: A Lion, Domesticated

by brownskinsugarplum76



Category: Led Zeppelin, Rock Music RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Cooking, British, Candles, Celebrations, Cooking, Dinner, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Marriage, Married Couple, Married Life, Mother-Son Relationship, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 14:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18671596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brownskinsugarplum76/pseuds/brownskinsugarplum76
Summary: No smut, just lots of sap with alternate universe Robert (married to you!) in a sweater, trying his best to make a special meal.





	One Shot: A Lion, Domesticated

Robert had heard you’d gotten the promotion yesterday, and he insisted on cooking a celebratory dinner for tonight, rather than treating you to a night out. He had been in a domestic mood since the tour had ended. He’d never cooked for you before, and barely for himself. You were a bit apprehensive, but you couldn’t say no to his eager request.

You are walking into the house and, by the burnt food smell in the air, you’re thinking it might not have been a good idea after all.

You sit your work bags on the table in the foyer and kick off your heels. You decide you should make yourself comfortable when you go to investigate what happened.

You round the corner to the dining room and are momentarily confused. Everything seems to be under control: two plates of roast beef, mashed potatoes from scratch, and steamed broccoli sit on the table; each plate rests next to neatly bundled sets of cutlery, wrapped in the burgundy cloth napkins and gold napkin rings that you had requested on the wedding registry.

Robert is wearing his cozy thunderbird sweater and jeans, and his feet are bare, sinking into the plush burgundy carpet. He is lighting a candle on the table, the second of two. He is singing softly to himself, and you realize it’s Thank You, the song he wrote about you.

“You really outdid yourself, Robert!” You can’t help but smile when he turns around with a gleeful grin on his face, one that is so pure and joyful that it’s reminiscent of an early grade school picture that you saw in his mother’s photo album.

“You sound surprised,” he says. A flicker of hurt quickly fades from his face as he approaches and kisses you. You taste mashed potatoes prepared to perfection.

When you pull apart, you notice a frosty bottle of your favorite red wine. He follows your gaze and hastens back to the table to uncork the bottle and fill two glasses.

“A toast,” he says once you have your glass, “to my intelligent, capable wife. I’m so proud of you and what you have accomplished. Well done, love. Chin chin,” he says, clinking his glass against yours.

After the two of you sip, Robert pulls out a chair for you and gently pushes you close to the table. He sits across from you.

Both of you unfurl the napkins and free your silverware. But Robert pauses and watches for your reaction to the first bite, a shy smile on his face.

You cut into a slice of the roast, which is as tender and juicy as any you’ve ever tasted in a restaurant. Once consumed, you try the potatoes and moan in satisfaction.

“Robert, this is…”

“Delicious?” his smile returns to his normal, confident, canary-eating grin.

“Delicious. Very delicious.” You lean across the table and kiss him. “But it smells like something burned? I don’t understand.”

“That was the gravy. The roast turned out fine, but I left the gravy to simmer and forgot completely about it when I went to jot down a song idea that came to me.”

“So where did this tasty gravy come from?”

“Tesco most likely. Bonzo saved the day by driving over with a tin of gravy that Pat had for emergencies.”

“I… I’m really impressed,” you say.

“I can’t take all the credit, though,” he says, smiling sheepishly. “I was on the phone with my mum for most of the afternoon, while she walked me through everything. It’s her mashed potatoes recipe that I used.”

“How sweet! My big mama’s boy,” you say, teasing him but kissing him deeply for his efforts.

“I would’ve been lost without her. She was more than happy to help domesticate her rambling rock star boy a little bit.”

“Well, in that case, I should say that you can be good at following directions.”

“Sometimes, maybe,” he says with a wink.

The two of you keep eating. You tell Robert about your new job duties, your new office, and how you plan to decorate it. He listens raptly, without a word about the new album in the works.

He squeezes your hand, expressing his pride in you. It makes you smile to realize how he has abdicated his usual place in the spotlight.

You sigh contentedly after the last bite of food has been consumed. “Thank you again, Robert, for making this celebration so special,” you say. “Now, what’s for dessert?”

“The better question is who,” he says, his face clouding over with lust, as he stands, leans over the table, and ignites your body with his kiss.


End file.
